


Queenslayer

by misura



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Gender Role Reversal, Robert's Rebellion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-24 01:29:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23001529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: Brienne of Tarth, sworn sister of the Queensguard, slays the Mad Queen. Cat finds her, after. (gender role swap!AU)
Relationships: Catelyn Tully Stark & Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	Queenslayer

There had been screams, the last time Cat had entered the throne room. It was quiet now.

Brienne was sitting on the steps to the Iron Throne, bloody sword still in her hand, three bodies around her. They would not have expected her to be any sort of threat to them, of course. Not a loyal member of the Queensguard.

"Lady Catelyn," Brienne said, struggling to get up. She was unharmed, Cat noted. Two pyromancers would not have put up much of a fight, of course; not without their vials and potions to help them.

"Lady Brienne." Cat's mouth felt dry. "What happened?" Lyanna was coming. All Brienne had had to do, all they had hoped for from Brienne had been to get away or, at worst, to stand aside.

"I killed her." Brienne lifted her chin. "I am aware that in doing so, I have broken a sacred oath, and I am ready to face the consequences for that."

_What about the rest of us?_ Cat wondered. "What happened?" she repeated.

"I killed her," Brienne said again. "I put my sword through her back. There was no honor in it."

"What. Happened?" Cat wanted to hit someone. She'd come here expecting to find at least several people deserving of that treatment, and more.

Brienne stared down at her sword and shook her head, like a woman trying to wake from a bad dream. " 'Burn them all.' That was what she said. 'Burn them all.' "

Cat thanked the gods for a problem she felt halfway equipped to deal with, at least. "Did anyone except you hear her say so?"

"Them." Brienne gestured to the two pyromancers. The red of their cloaks did little to hide the blood.

"Good." The danger was past, then. Lyanna would be safe. _Everyone_ would be safe.

"I swore to protect her," Brienne said. "By the old gods and the new, I swore it. I broke that oath."

"Yes," Cat said, because saying 'no' would have been a lie. "You did. And there will be many people who will judge you for that. Women, men, girls, boys. People from all walks of life. People who weren't here, who could never have done what you have done. But I swear to you that neither I nor any member of my House will ever be among them, nor will Lyanna."

"She's a Stark," Brienne said.

"I will be a Stark, too," Cat said. "Soon."

Brienne frowned, probably feeling that oath-breakers did not have the right to congratulate other people on their marriage alliances or some such thing.

"Oh, good. She's dead," someone said.

Cat turned. Brienne flinched. "Lady Cersei."

The golden girl of the Lannisters. Youngest member of the Queensguard ever. Brilliant swordswoman. Cat wondered what excuse she had found not to be here for the fighting, to be absent when her queen had needed her most.

"So to whom do I offer congratulations?" Cersei eyed the two of them. She looked impeccable, her white cloak unstained. "Not Lady Brienne, surely."

Cat considered lying. She felt the words take shape in her mind. Brienne wouldn't need to confirm. Her silence would be enough. All the other witnesses were dead, their silence guaranteed.

"Your queen is dead," Brienne said. "This is not an occasion for congratulations."

Lyanna would have been quicker, Cat thought. Ned, the sweet idiot, would have pointed to Brienne straightaway.

"So it was you, then." Cersei's gaze was cool, her voice grating on Cat's nerves. "Well done you. Pity you had to break your precious oath to do it, but then, perhaps you were tired of being in the Queensguard, anyway."

"I will of course resign my position," Brienne said.

"Yes. I rather think you should," Cersei said. "At the very least."

Cat rallied. "And where were you, if I may ask, Lady Cersei?"

"Obeying my queen's - well, late queen's orders." Cersei smiled.

Cat fantasized about drawing her sword. She might not win, in fact, she would almost certainly lose, but the satisfaction of getting to hit Cersei just once might make it all worth it.

Of course, losing would mean leaving Brienne alone with Cersei. It would mean never seeing Ned again, never marrying him and allowing him to father her children, never teaching her daughters the sword, never seeing her sons grow from silly boys to too serious young men.

Brienne frowned. "She ordered you to bring her your mother's head."

"She did." Cersei smiled again. Cat felt something cold slither down her back. No one who had slain her own mother ought to be able to smile like that, smug and happy and as if she considered herself better than anyone else in the room. "Happily, she failed to specify that it could no longer be attached to the rest of her body."

Cat swallowed. "That is happy, indeed."

Cersei chuckled. "You should have seen your face just now. Both your faces." She passed them, staring up at the Iron Throne. "So. This is what it's all about."

"That," Cat said, "is a very uncomfortable chair. Nothing more."

"You won't mind if I sit in it, then?"

Cersei moved. Cat moved quicker, wishing Lyanna would hurry up and get here already. Joanna Lannister might do as well, in a pinch. Joanna was ambitious, but clever. Cautious. The Lannisters had been a great house under the Targaryens, and they would continue to be so. Their only bad fortune was that Cersei was the only daughter, the only heir.

Thus, the Targaryens naming her to the Queensguard, ensuring Joanna would never have grandchildren of her own, since Jaime's children would take his wife's family name.

_Thus,_ Cat thought, _the Targaryens giving us the Lannister armies._ Lyanna might have succeeded without them, but it would have been a close thing. This way, it had been surer. Quicker.

_And yet, without Brienne, how many people might have died?_

"Always so serious," Cersei said. "Would you really fight me over a chair? Hasn't enough blood been spilled in this room?"

"Why don't we all sit down for a while?" Cat said. Ned's brother and uncle had died in this room. She did not want to be here, to stay here any longer than she had to.

Brienne sighed and sat down where Cat had found her. Cersei grimaced, making a show of finding a place to sit where her cloak would stay clean.

Cat found them three cups and some wine, which Cersei declared to be passable, so Cat chalked it up as a win and tried to make civilized small talk while they waited for the new Protectress of the Realms to come and sit in her uncomfortable chair.


End file.
